Bad Faith

#Bad Faith By Craig Cordeiro [[Start->Part 1]]

{ |passage1buttons>[ |passage1denialButton>[Denial] |passage1angerButton>[Anger] |passage1bargainingButton>[Bargaining] |passage1depressionButton>[Depression] |passage1acceptanceButton>[Acceptance] ] |passage1denial)["This isn't happening," muttered Connie into mobile phone pressed against her cheek. "No, no, no. This can't be happening," she pleaded, staring aimlessly at the fridge. The magnets seemed to dance as her vision blurred from the tears. Walter did not break the news well.] |passage1anger)["What the fuck do you mean, 'they won't release the body'?” Connie barked into the mobile phone, tightening her grip and pressing it to her face. She stared at the fridge and watched the magnets dance as the rage washed over her. She didn't want to shoot the messenger but Walter's tactless delivery of the news did not help the situation.] |passage1bargaining)["There has to be something we can do," Connie pleaded. "You're my lawyer. Can't you do something?" The magnets on the fridge stared back at her mockingly. She ignored them, pressed her ear tight against the mobile phone in her hand, and readied herself to pounce onto any glimmer of hope Walter deigned present her.] |passage1depression)[(show: ?passage1anger) She couldn't bring herself to sulk.] |passage1acceptance)[(show: ?passage1anger) This could not stand.] (click: ?passage1denialButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1denial, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1angerButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1anger, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1bargainingButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1bargaining, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1depressionButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1depression, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1acceptance, ?passage2)] } |passage2)[=Though he tried his best to feign warmth, the voice coming from the other end of her mobile was still ice. "You're not the only one affected, Connie," Walter said. "The police are refusing to release all of the victims' bodies while the killer is still on the loose." "There's a court order," he quickly added, attempting to stymie further discussion. Connie was quickly starting to regret this phone call. What a waste of an afternoon. { |passage2buttons>[ |passage2denialButton>[Denial] |passage2angerButton>[Anger] |passage2bargainingButton>[Bargaining] |passage2depressionButton>[Depression] |passage2acceptanceButton>[Acceptance] ] |passage2denial)["They can't do this!" She proclaimed with a sob. "It's inhumane! They have no right." For just a moment, Walter's stiff voice relented, as if he could sense the impending waterworks.] |passage2anger)["This is insane!" she shrieked. "They've already done the autopsy! They have the report! They don't need the body anymore; I do!" It took Hector a moment to recover from the bombardment.] |passage2bargaining)["Why do they still need his body?" she asked. "They've already done the autopsy. I've seen the report." Hector had no response. So, Connie continued. "It doesn't have to be a public funeral," she said. "You know, if it'll affect the case, I can keep it secret. I just need to see him." "Connie..." he finally said, still not sure what to say. "Hector, please. I just need to see him again. Can you at least get them to let me see him?" He didn't answer. "What about bribes. Can we bribe someone? I'll sell the car. I'll mortgage the house. I'll pay whatever I have to. Whatever you think it'll take." Hector sighed. Connie added, "You can take your cut of the bribe too. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Of course, you'll be compensated." "Connie, that's not--" Hector genuinely didn't know to react. So, he took a moment to steel himself and try again.] |passage2depression)["Why are they doing this to me?" She sobbed gently. Her hands attempted to intercept the tears, wiping them away before they could break her. Hector didn't deal with strong emotion well. In the instant he took to ponder how to react, the sobbing intesified. Her hands had trouble keeping up with them. "Connie..." he tried to say, but could be sure if he was heard as the sobbing turned to blubbering. He gritted his teeth and tried again.] |passage2acceptance)[(show: ?passage2bargaining)] (click: ?passage2denialButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2denial, ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2angerButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2anger, ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2bargainingButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2bargaining, ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2depressionButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2depression, ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2acceptance, ?passage3)] } |passage3)[="Connie," he said. "Believe me. I understand. But, there’s nothing we can do." { |passage3buttons>[ |passage3denialButton>[Denial] |passage3angerButton>[Anger] |passage3bargainingButton>[Bargaining] |passage3depressionButton>[Depression] |passage3acceptanceButton>[Acceptance] ] |passage3denial)[(show: ?passage3depression)] |passage3anger)[(show: ?passage3depression)] |passage3bargaining)[(show: ?passage3depression)] |passage3depression)[With a sigh, Connie leaned her back against the fridge, and slid down to the cold tile of her kitchen floor, scattering magnets everywhere. "It's been four months," she said. "I just need some goddamned closure." She stopped trying to hold back the tears. It was just too hard to care about them now.] |passage3acceptance)[(show: ?passage3depression)] (click: ?passage3denialButton)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3denial, ?passage4)] (click: ?passage3angerButton)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3anger, ?passage4)] (click: ?passage3bargainingButton)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3bargaining, ?passage4)] (click: ?passage3depressionButton)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3depression, ?passage4)] (click: ?passage3acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3acceptance, ?passage4)] } |passage4)[=Walter was clearly out of his element. He went for one last gambit. "Maybe we can put together a class action suit," he said. "If we get some of the other victims' familes on board we might be able to exert some pressure --" { |passage4buttons>[ |passage4denialButton>[Denial] |passage4angerButton>[Anger] |passage4bargainingButton>[Bargaining] |passage4depressionButton>[Depression] |passage4acceptanceButton>[Acceptance] ] |passage4denial)["Thanks for nothing," Connie said. She ended the call and placed the phone on the ground beside her.] |passage4anger)[(set: $phone_broken to true)"Don't give me that shit!" Connie yelled. "''Just do your fuckin' job!''" She threw her phone across the kitchen and heard a crunch as it impacted the wall or cabinet or whatever -- it didn't really matter. She couldn't hear Walter anymore. So, at least she didn't have to deal with that call anymore. Or, she guess, any of other calls. There are only so many times people can offer their condolences before you've just had enough and need to be left alone.] |passage4bargaining)[(show: ?passage4depression)] |passage4depression)[She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. Walter's distant voice was droning on about more bullshit than she could handle right now. So, without saying another word, she ended the call and placed the phone on the ground beside her.] |passage4acceptance)[(show: ?passage4depression)] (click: ?passage4denialButton)[(replace: ?passage4buttons)[](show: ?passage4denial, ?passage5)] (click: ?passage4angerButton)[(replace: ?passage4buttons)[](show: ?passage4anger, ?passage5)] (click: ?passage4bargainingButton)[(replace: ?passage4buttons)[](show: ?passage4bargaining, ?passage5)] (click: ?passage4depressionButton)[(replace: ?passage4buttons)[](show: ?passage4depression, ?passage5)] (click: ?passage4acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage4buttons)[](show: ?passage4acceptance, ?passage5)] } |passage5)[={ |passage5buttons>[ |passage5denialButton>[Depression] |passage5angerButton>[Depression] |passage5bargainingButton>[Depression] |passage5depressionButton>[Depression] |passage5acceptanceButton>[Depression] ] |passage5denial)[(show: ?passage5depression)] |passage5anger)[(show: ?passage5depression)] |passage5bargaining)[(show: ?passage5depression)] |passage5depression)[With the phone call out of the way she knew what she had to do. Still seated at the base of her fridge, Connie brought her knees in towards her chest, wrapped her arms around them, rested her head on them, and began to sob. Uncontrollably.] |passage5acceptance)[(show: ?passage5depression)] (click: ?passage5denialButton)[(replace: ?passage5buttons)[](show: ?passage5denial, ?passage6)] (click: ?passage5angerButton)[(replace: ?passage5buttons)[](show: ?passage5anger, ?passage6)] (click: ?passage5bargainingButton)[(replace: ?passage5buttons)[](show: ?passage5bargaining, ?passage6)] (click: ?passage5depressionButton)[(replace: ?passage5buttons)[](show: ?passage5depression, ?passage6)] (click: ?passage5acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage5buttons)[](show: ?passage5acceptance, ?passage6)] } |passage6)[=[[Continue -> Magnet Mayhem]]

Eventually, Connie's chest and shoulders stopped convulsing. And, her anguished moans were no involuntary. "How long have I been crying," she thought aloud. It was dark now. Both outside, and since no one had turned on her lights, inside the house as well. Connie felt the floor around her, searching for her phone so that she could check the time. (if:$phone_broken is true)[When she remember that she had thrown her phone across the kitchen earlier, she let out a protracted groan. That phone would be of no help to anyone anymore. But, her hand came to rest on a flat object anyway.](else:)[Her hand came to rest on a flat object. It didn't feel like her phone.] She brought it close to her face to inspect. It was hard to make out but Connie knew exactly what it was: a souvenir magnet in the shape of the state of Virginia. Their first roadtrip as a couple had started in Virginia. She had pointed out the magnet to Victor on their first pitstop. It had the slogan, "Virigina is for Lovers!" emblazened across the front. Connie had found it amusing but Vic just rolled his eyes and refused to spend good money on something so tacky. She was disappointed but she understood. They were young, didn't have a lot of money, and just beginning their trip. Who knew what unexpected expenses might arise? They couldn't be buying knickknacks at every time they saw something they fancied. Even if they had the money to spend, their 1997 Civic hatchback was packed to the brim. There just wasn't enough room to spare for trinkets and trivialities. But logic didn't stop her regret from setting in as they pulled away from the gas station. { |passage1buttons>[ |passage1denialButton>[Denial] |passage1angerButton>[Anger] |passage1bargainingButton>[Bargaining] |passage1depressionButton>[Depression] |passage1acceptanceButton>[Acceptance] ] |passage1denial)[(show: ?passage1anger)] |passage1anger)[(set: $magnet_broken to true)And now, Vic was gone. Their fun little story about how he secretly stole that dumb magnet to surprise her didn't matter anymore. All it did was remind her of him. (if:$phone_broken is true)[Like the phone before it, ]Connie threw the novelty magnet as hard as she could.] |passage1bargaining)[(show: ?passage1acceptance)] |passage1depression)[(show: ?passage1anger)] |passage1acceptance)[A smile finally fought through the tears as Connie remembered the idiot surprising her with that dumb magnet as soon as they were back on the road. He claimed to have stolen it as proof of his undying devotion to her. //Undying//, she thought to herself. //Yeah, right//. Her smile faded.] (click: ?passage1denialButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1denial, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1angerButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1anger, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1bargainingButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1bargaining, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1depressionButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1depression, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1acceptance, ?passage2)] } { |passage2)[=(if:$magnet_broken is true)[It took a moment for the regret to set it. Connie leaned forward to get on her knees,(if:$phone_broken is false)[(set: $phone_broken to true) heard a crunch, and felt only sharp pain coming from her left knee. Her phone was no more. She ignored it] and crawled her way to the magnet, feeling around in the dark and gathering as many pieces of it as she could. |passage2buttons>[ |passage2angerButton>[Anger] |passage2depressionButton>[Depression] ] |passage2anger)[(set: $dishes_broken to true)When the regret turned back to anger, Connie jumped to her feet, grabbed the nearest object, her dish drying rack, and swiped it off the countertop. Several dishes, glasses, mugs, and cutlery crashed to the floor, smashing and scattering into a field of shrapnel. For a time, she just stood there, staring straight ahead, seething. Eventually, Connie walked over to the kitchen's light switch, flicked it on, and went directly to the utility drawer; crunching through the detritus on each way. Cursing the whole time, Connie searched through the drawer, tossing to the ground everything that displeased her. A smile filled with false serenity crept along her mouth once she found the superglue. She dropped to her knees, ceramic shards tearing into them, and dug through the tableware rubble scattered across her kitchen floor, further extricating any fragments of Virginia she may have missed. She then took the glue and along with recovered pieces of the fractured state to her breakfast nook, laid the pieces on the table, and began the lengthy process of glueing the magnet back together. ] |passage2depression)[Defeated utterly, she walked over to the light switch, flicked it on, and walked directly to the utility drawer. Calmly, Connie searched through the drawer until she found the superglue. She took the glue and what fractured pieces of the state she had managed to recover to her breakfast nook, laid the pieces on the table, and began the lengthy process of glueing the magnet back together. ] (click: ?passage2angerButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2anger, ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2depressionButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2depression, ?passage3)] |passage3)[=(show: ?passage4)When the final piece was in place, Connie beheld her tragic handiwork. “Virg-nia is -or Lov-rs,” it read on the front. ](else:)[(show: ?passage4)] } |passage4)[=She got up, walked the (if:$magnet_broken is true)[mangled ]magnet back into the kitchen, and placed it in its spot on the fridge with a smile. (if:$dishes_broken is false)[With the lights on, she noticed all the other magnets that had fallen, and calmly put them back in their places.](else:)[With that done, her smile faded. Connie grabbed a broom and dustpan, and swept up the mess on the kitchen floor. Then, she walked upstairs and took a shower. After the shower, she treated and wrapped the cuts on her hand, knees, and feet.] When that was done, Connie brought her laptop, a pen, and a notepad to the table in the breakfast nook. She booted up the laptop, logged in, opened her web browser, and began a search: //how find serial killer//. [[Continue->Part 2]]

#Part 1 Virginia is for Lovers (set: $phone_broken to false, $magnet_broken to false, $dishes_broken to false) [[Continue->Phone Call]]

#Part 2 An Uninvited Guest (set: $shadowman to false, $guest to false, $dossier to false, $heartcarver_identified to false, $contract_read to false, $contact_found to false, $heartcarver_guest_identified to false, $heartcarver_dossier_identified to false, $caller to false) [[Continue->A Caller at the Door]]

Before the search results could even load, three thunderous thuds emanated from Connie's front door. (text-style:"rumble")[''Thud. Thud. Thud.''] "Who the hell --" Another set. (text-style:"rumble")[''Thud. Thud. Thud.''] { |passage1buttons>[ |passage1_1button>[Answer] |passage1_2button>[Ignore] ] |passage1_1)["Why is this happening now?" Connie thought out load. [[Continue->Caller]]] (click: ?passage1_1button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_1)] (click: ?passage1_2button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage2)] } |passage2)[="I don't need this right now," Connie thought out loud. She took a deep breath and returned her attention to the search results. (text-style:"rumble")[''Thud. Thud. Thud.''] "Goddamnit!" She yelled. (text-style:"rumble")[''Thud. Thud. Thud.''] { |passage2buttons>[ |passage2_1button>[Answer] |passage2_2button>[Ignore] ] |passage2_1)["I don't need another fucking cassarole!" Connie yelled, mostly to herself. It wasn't loud enough to carry to the door, but she secretly hope they could hear it anyway. [[Continue->Caller]]] (click: ?passage2_1button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2_1)] (click: ?passage2_2button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage3)] } |passage3)[="I just need to ignore them and they'll go away," Connie said to herself. She really hoped they'd get the hint and just drop off whatever cassarole they were trying to give her on the porch and leave her alone. (text-style:"rumble")[''Thud. Thud. Thud.''] Connie stood up. The rage inside her was not subsiding. Her eyes started to well. Every emotion poured through her all at once. (text-style:"rumble")[''Thud. Thud. Thud.''] { |passage3buttons>[ |passage3_1button>[Answer] |passage3_2button>[Ignore] ] |passage3_1)[''"This asshole is going to knock my goddamned door down if I don't answer, isn't he?!"'' she yelled, loud enough for them to hear. At least, she really, really hoped it was. [[Continue->Caller]]] (click: ?passage3_1button)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3_1)] (click: ?passage3_2button)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage4)] } |passage4)[=Connie was at her wits end. Emotionally exhausted(if: $dishes_broken is true)[, wounded,] and physically drained, she had nothing left. She left her laptop as it was, walked past the door and went straight up the stairs to her bedroom. She tucked herself in and lay in bed, begging for sleep to take her. [[Continue->Shadow Man]]

(set: $shadowman to true) Between tossing and turning, and fits of uncontrolled sobbing, Connie was unsure of whether she was awake or dreaming. She hoped it was the latter as there was a humanoid (text-style:"shudder")[figure], wreathed in shadow, at the foot of her bed. It stared into her eyes intently. As if waiting for her to act. She could feel time slow down and everything became clearer. Everything except the (text-style:"shudder")[figure]. It's features remained vague but it's gaze felt sharper. (link:"Call for Help")[= Connie tried to yell for help. She lived alone now. There was no help. Even if there was, no sound managed to escape her lips. (link:"Run")[= She tried to back away from it. To roll out of bed. To run down the stairs and out of the house. Anywhere but this room, with that (text-style:"shudder")[thing] in it. But Connie couldn't move. Whatever it was doing to her, she was helpless. (link:"Panic")[= Her mind was racing. She tried everything she could. But she still couldn't move. She still couldn't speak. And that (text-style:"shudder")[thing] just stood there. Watching. She just wished she knew what it wanted. "Child of shadow," it said. "Child of light. For you, I am and not, tonight." Connie didn't understand. The (text-style:"shudder")[thing] cocked its head to the side. "Forgive," it said, "dreamspeak... hard to manifest. Time." "Okay," she finally managed to squeeze through her vocal cords. She still couldn't move. The (text-style:"shudder")[thing's] head cocked to the other side. "Destiny begins and ends with a new day." Speaking was still a struggle, but she managed. "That's. Not. Helpful." "Forgive," said the (text-style:"shudder")[thing]. "I am and not, but only for you, but only tonight." "You're here for me?" Connie asked. "And not," it retorted. "What is your purpose?" Connie probed. "To speak and be known," the (text-style:"shudder")[thing] said. "To dim and to shine." "Well," she said, "you're speaking. But I don't know what the hell you're saying!" "No," it said, quite confused. "Not Hell." (link:"Probe")[= "Are you saying that you're not from Hell?" Connie asked. "Yes," said the (text-style:"shudder")[thing]. "How do I know that?" asked Connie "Do I just take your word?" "Yes," the (text-style:"shudder")[thing] said. "I am for you." "Who sent you?" asked Connie. "Was it that weirdo in the suit?" "No. I am." said the (text-style:"shudder")[thing]. Connie wasn't following. "You're that weirdo in the suit?" The both very odd in their own right, the two didn't seem related. "No. I am, not Hell," the (text-style:"shudder")[thing] said, possibly confirming Connie's hunch. "Great," she concluded. "You are not from Hell and I am losing my mind." The (text-style:"shudder")[thing] agreed, not understanding her attempt at levity. "Yes, your mind is lost," it said. "It can be found." (link:"Probe Deeper")[= "And how do I find it?" Connie asked, humouring the crazy shadow (text-style:"shudder")[thing]. "Hector Thurston," it said. (if: $heartcarver_identity is true)["The teacher fom the dossier?" she wondered. Killing this man seemed to be a recurring theme. "You and that other one seem insistent on this. Why?" "Do not trust the other one. But on this we agree. Hector Thurston, The Heart Carver, must die."](else:)["Who?" she wondered. "The Heart Carver," said the (text-style:"shudder")[thing](set: $heartcarver_identity to true) She didn't know how, but suddenly she knew everything there was to know about this man, Hector Thurston. As if the information simply apparated in her mind. He was a young kindergarten teacher that lead a simple yet fulfilling life. "He must die," stated the (text-style:"shudder")[thing] as a matter of fact.] (if: $contract_read is true)["So what am I supposed to do? Sign that crazy ass contract so it gives me superpowers and I murder this poor man?" "No!" In an instant the (text-style:"shudder")[thing] moved from the foot of her bed to directly beside Connie. She yelped! "Do not form a compact with that thing," the current (text-style:"shudder")[thing] said. "The Heart Carver must die. It must be by your hand alone. No shadow must walk within you."] "Okay, this is enough insanity for one night. Could you please just leave me alone? I need some sleep." "Yes, I will leave. I am for you. You know what you must. Sleep." The (text-style:"shudder")[thing] was gone and daylight filled the room. Connie put voice to the only thought rattling around her mind. "What in the fuck just happened?" It was too vivid to be a dream; too absurd to have been real. As she lay wide awake in her warm bed, despite the insanity of the night before, Connie felt at peace. It only lasted a moment. Her head swam with information about a man she had never known. The man that two strange //things// want dead. The man that they claim killed her husband. The man that, for some reason, she had to kill. All she could do now, was start her day and plan the murder of an innocent man. [[Continue->Part 3]]

(set: $caller to true)Connie hauled her now worn and emotionally exhausted body to the front door. (if:$dishes_broken is true)[She tried to stomp](else:)[She stomped] her feet en route in order to indicate her mood to the caller. (if:$dishes_broken is true)[ But, they were still tender from wading through the tableware she had smashed on the floor in a fit of rage.] She peeped through the peephole. An older, well-dressed man stood on the other side of the door. His lightly coloured, well tailored suit almost shone in the darkness of the night that surrounded him. Connie turned on her porch lights and peeped again. He seemed to be waiting patiently for her now. Somehow, his suit didn't seem as bright in the light. "Don't know you," Connie said, loud enough to penetrate the door. "You do not," said the main in the well fitting suit. His voice was not raised, but it penetrated the door with little effort. "I am hear to speak to you about your late husband," the man continued. "Are you a cop?" asked Connie. "You don't look like a cop. Let me see some ID!" she demanded. "I am an officer of The Law," said the man. "Though," he contined, "I am not affiliated with your local police force. I have no identification that you would recognize." "Then fuck off or I'll call someone that is 'affiliated with my local police force!'" yelled Connie, doing air quotes as she said the last part. "Whatever your selling," she continued, "I don't want any!" "Untrue," said the man. "What I am //selling//, as you put it, is the one thing you do want. The one thing you crave with every fiber of your being." With that, he smiled a crooked smile. It was a smile that unsettled Connie to her core, though she didn't understand why. "Oh yeah, creep?" she said expectantly, with a cocky smile of her own. "And what's that? Tell me what I 'crave with every fiber of my being.'" "Vengeance," said the man. "Vengeance against the one that murdered your husband. Vengeance against the man that cut out his still beating heart." His smile widened. Connie's smile turned to a gasp and a shudder. She didn't know how to respond to that. What he said about the heart was not public knowledge. "Invite me in," said the man, "and we can discuss it further." { |passage1buttons>[ |passage1_1button>[Welcome] |passage1_2button>[Abjure] ] |passage1_1)[//What am I doing?// thought Connie. //This crazy fucker could be anyone. He could be the bastard that killed Victor. Either way, I have to know what he has to say. If he did kill my husband, he's not leaving this house alive.// [[Continue->Guest]]] (click: ?passage1_1button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_1)] (click: ?passage1_2button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage2)] } |passage2)[="Yeah...," retorted Connie. "That's not going to happen." She continued, "There's no way I'm about to let some creep that pounds on my door in the middle of the night, offering me vengeance but no ID, into my house right now." The man added a nod to his too wide smile. "Understandable," he said. "A woman in your position should be wary of strangers appearing in the middle of the night, offering their heart's true desire." Connie scoffed at that remark. The man pulled a manilla file folder, thick with pages and continued, "I shall leave this for you and be on my way." He raised the folder to the peephole, letting Connie glimpse it, before placing it on the doorstep. { |passage2buttons>[ |passage2_1button>[Refuse] |passage2_2button>[Accept] ] |passage2_1)["No," said Connie. "That's not happening. I don't want anything to do with any of that. Take your strange brown folder and please get the fuck off my porch." The man's smile inverted. "Very well," he said. "If that is how it must be. Then that is how it must be." He picked up his folder, walked out of the light, and into the darkness. "What a creep," Connie muttered to herself. It had been a long day, she had decided, and that weirdo just made it longer. Connie walked up the stairs to her bedroom, crawled into the too large, empty bed, and prayed for sleep to take her. [[Continue->Shadow Man]]] (click: ?passage2_1button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2_1)] (click: ?passage2_2button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage3)] } |passage3)[="What's in there?" she asked. The too wide smile narrowed as the man cocked his head thoughtfully. "It is merely... a show of good faith," he said. "Should you change your mind about having a discussion, I have place my contact information on the back cover." Even if the info was useful and she wanted to actually contact this creep, Connie didn't have a working phone. //Though//, she supposed, //he didn't need to know that//. She'd figure it out if it ever came to that. It probably wouldn't. //Right?// While Connie pondered the loss of her phone, the man walked away from the door and out of the porch light's luminosity. He and his lightly coloured suit, the one that seemed to all but shine in the darkness before, simply melded into the surrounding night. //Damned street light must be out again//, Connie thought, still looking through the peephole. { |passage3buttons>[ |passage3_1button>[Leave Folder] |passage3_2button>[Grab Folder] ] |passage3_1)[The folder enticed her. What could be in there? Whatever it was, it wasn't worth the risk. She wouldn't be beholden to some random creep that showed up on her doorstep in the middle of the night. For all she knew, that fucker was the monster that cut the goddamned heart out of her husband's chest in the first place. Connie had had enough. She walked upstairs to the bedroom, crawled into her empty, king size bed, and prayed for sleep to take her. [[Continue->Shadow Man]]] (click: ?passage3_1button)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3_1)] (click: ?passage3_2button)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage4)] } |passage4)[=(set: $dossier to true)When a few minutes had passed, she snuck the door open, just enough to snatch the folder in, and slammed it shut. [[Continue ->Dossier]]

It had been a long, exhausting day, but the allure of that strange man's dossier was inescapable. (if: $guest is true)[Connie had heard just about as much of his spiel as she could tolerate before kicking him out at knifepoint. She didn't believe a word he said. She couldn't. Then again...] If it meant some semblence of closure, maybe the folder was worth a look. If Connie could find even a morsel of information that could lead to an arrest... maybe she could finally get some sleep at night. Connie started at the bland manila folder, steeling herself. The label read, //The Heart Carver//. An unsettling title, considering her husband's offical cause of death. She opened the folder and began to read. It was pure fantasy. (link:"The Heart Carver")[(set: $heartcarver_identified to true)(set: $heartcarver_dossier_identified to true) Hector Thurston, the poor school teacher that the strange man had singled out as the serial killer that killed Victor may have been the most harmless person on the planet. The intel on him was thorough, but downright adorable how boring he was. He taught at kindergarten at a nearby elementary school. On Wednesdays, he would visit a local comic shop. On Thursdays, he would meet a few friends at a bar. He ordered an unnecessary amount of useless junk online: mostly knockoffs of rare action figures and DVD box sets of police procedurals. He even paid his bills on time. Once or twice a year he'd be late by a few days, but that wasn't unusual; if anything that made him even more boring. If this man was a serial killer, humanity had no hope of survival. (if: $guest is true)[It's official, Connie decided, she let a crazy man into her home and then read his scatterbrained notes on a random fixation he seems to have had on this Hector Thurston.]] (link:"Contract")[(set: $contract_read to true) The contract was the most bizzare thing Connie had seen that night. It was like a lawyer drew it up while simultaneously trying to run a game of Dungeons & Dragons. It detailed items like immortality depreciation, weapons of power issuance scheduling, chain of custody and proper delivery procedures for newly acquired souls, demonic vesting, warlock consultation fees, and so much more crazy than Connie knew what to do with. Whatever drugs that strange man was on, he needed to get off of them and seek professional help.] (link:"The Man's Contact Information")[(set: $contact_found to true) An address and local phone number where hastily scrawled on the back of the folder. The man did not leave his name. Connie looked up both. They both pointed to a shitty office building in a rundown part of down. Odd for such a well dressed occupant.] (link:"Go to Bed")[= This day had slowly become the second worst day of Connie's life. Her search for closure just drudged up more emotions with which she had no idea how to reign in. So, she placed all the papers, now spread out across the table of her breakfast nook, back into the manila folder. She placed the folder into the compost bin. Walked upstairs to her cavernous bedroom. Climbed into her empty, king sized bed. And cried, and cried some more, praying that sleep would take her away from the pain. [[Continue->Shadow Man]]

(set: $guest to true)Connie opened the door and the stranger stepped inside. He was taller than her by a large margin. But, the way she stared him down made it clear who was in control. She escorted him to the breakfast nook where she had been working before his interruption. While he scooched in, Connie walked over to the knife block in her kitchen and grabbed the largest knife she owned. She returned to the nook and took her seat. Her right arm rested on the lip of the table, its hand aiming the knife at the man, ready to strike should he prove untrustworthy. The man looked at the very large knife, smiled, and nodded. "The precaution is prudent," he said, "but I assure you, you'll have no need of it." "My husband and I used to like looking at medieval weaponry at The ROM. We'd go once or twice every year. He used to joke about buying me a flamberge for self defense. He would say that I'd give anyone that tried to attack me stitches. Not from the blade, but from how silly I'd look trying to wield something that large. It wasn't a good joke; he didn't have a very good sense of humour. But if I had one of those right now, I'd use it without hesitation. I want to be as far away from you as I can be and still hold a blade to your throat. This," she motioned her head towards the knife, "is the compromise. Step out of line -- actually, no. You don't have to step out of line. If I even think that you're considering stepping out of line... I'm burying this fucker so deep inside you, the mortician is going to need one of those machines that scientist use to take ice core samples in Antartica to get it back out." The man smiled that too wide smile again. Connie raised the knife. "No," she said. "I don't ever want to see that smile. It creeps me the fuck out. That's how you get stabbed." The smile narrowed to a reasonable width. Connie lowered the knife lowered. The two of them sat across from each other. Silent. Motionless. Only for a moment. "Constance," said the man. "No," said Connie, again. "Only my parents call me Constance. You're not allowed to call me that." "Connie," said the man. She nodded in approval, then shook her head in the negative. "No, wait," she said. "How do you know my name -- nevermind." She realized. "It was all over the news when the found Vic. But, how did you know where I live?" "As I said," said the man, "I am an officer of The Law. As such, I am privy to much information." |boot_guest1>[[[Heard Enough Bullshit->Boot Guest]]] (link:"Probe")[=(replace: ?boot_guest1)[] "But you still have no credentials to show me?" retorted Connie. "Unfortunately," said the man. "I have none that you would comprehend." Connie bristled. "What the fuck does that mean? You INTERPOL? You're ID in German or something? I don't hear an accent," she said, accusingly. |boot_guest2>[[[Heard Enough Bullshit->Boot Guest]]] (link:"Probe Deeper")[=(replace: ?boot_guest2)[] When the man hesitated to answer, she probed again. "What's your name?" "In my line of work," the main said, "names are... complicated." |boot_guest3>[[[Heard Enough Bullshit->Boot Guest]]] (link:"Probe Deeper")[=(replace: ?boot_guest3)[] Connie clapped back. "You a CSIS? CIA? --" "I am not at liberty to disclose my affiliation at this time," said the man. "So," eludicated Connie, "not on our team, then." "I am on //your// team," said the man. |boot_guest4>[[[Heard Enough Bullshit->Boot Guest]]] (link:"Probe Deeper")[=(replace: ?boot_guest4)[] "My team?" asked Connie. "Yes," said the man. "The one that killed your husband --" "What do you know about him?" Connie interjected. As the man moved his hand towards the inside of his suit jacket, Connie gripped her knife tighter. He stopped prior to reaching all the way inside and asked, "May I?" "Fine," Connie said. (set: $dossier to true)The man retrieved a pristine manila file folder, thick with pages, and placed it on the table. "How the hell did you fit that in your breast pocket?" Connie wondered out loud. The man smiled. He made sure to restrain its width. "I have my ways," he chuckled. Connie rolled her eyes. |boot_guest5>[[[Heard Enough Bullshit->Boot Guest]]] (link:"Probe")[=(replace: ?boot_guest5)[] "What's in there?" she asked. The man slid the folder over to her. "See for yourself. It is everything I know about The Heart Carver." Connie's eyes narrowed. "This Heart Carver have an actual name?" (set: $heartcarver_guest_identified to true)"Hector Thurston," said the man, "but against an individual like this, an //actual// name, as you put it, has very limited utility. His truename is The Heart Carver. A truename is power." Connie opened the folder, mostly ignoring the non-sense about names. The fist page was a photocopy of an Ontario Driver's Licence. "Holy fuck, is that him?" She got to her feet. "It is," said the man. "How do you know that?" she asked, then realized the answer. "Right, spook. Not on //our// team --" "Just //yours//," he specified. Connie rolled her eyes again. "Whatever that means," she said, sitting back down. "It means --" "So what?" she interrupted, "I just take this to the cops?" "No," said the man. "The police are... ill-equipped to deal with an individual of this nature." |boot_guest6>[[[Heard Enough Bullshit->Boot Guest]]] (link:"Probe Deeper")[=(replace: ?boot_guest6)[] "He one of you?" she asked. "Gone rogue or something?" "Or something..." The man was deliberately vague. "So," she asked, "why don't you deal him?" "My... affiliation --" Connie narrowed her eyes. "Which you are not at liberty to disclose." The man nodded, knowingly. "My affiliation ties my hands. You could say, I lack jurisdiction." "Convenient," barked Connie. "Anything but," said the man, shaking his head. "If I were allowed to deal with himself... well we would not be having this discussion. He would already be dealt with and the world would be better for it." |boot_guest7>[[[Heard Enough Bullshit->Boot Guest]]] (link:"Probe Deeper")[=(replace: ?boot_guest7)[] This still wasn't adding up for Connie. "So, you can't deal with him. The police can't deal with him. Why are you talking to me about any of this? It's not like I can do anything." "Oh Connie," said the man, an appropriately wide smile on his face. "That's where you are wrong. With my help, that's exactly what you can do." |boot_guest8>[[[Heard Enough Bullshit->Boot Guest]]] (link:"Probe Deeper")[=(replace: ?boot_guest8)[] "With your help?" she asked. "What kind of help?" The question excited the man greatly. "The last page of the dossier contains a contract," he said with much gusto. "Read it over, ''thoroughly''. It may not seem like it makes sense at first but it is actually quite straightforward. Once you agree to the terms, he cannot stand a chance." "Oh." Connie finally understood. "So this is a con. You're trying to get me to sign over power of attorney or the deed to my house or something." "Quite the opposite," said the man, still excited. "I wish to //bestow// (text-style:"rumble")[''power''] //upon// you." Connie let out a protracted sigh. [[Continue->Boot Guest]]

"Alright, asshole," she said, raising her very large knife. "Get the fuck outta my house. I've heard enough of your bullshit." The man sat still. He seemed befuddled by her sudden hostility. Connie got to her feet. "Get out or your getting stabbed. Your choice. I don't care either way." The man let out a harumph, got to his feet and made his way to the door. Connie walked behind him, knife at the ready. After he crossed the threshold, he turned to Connie. "You are the only one that can do this. If you do not stop him, no one will. His reign of terror will never end." Connie shut the door in his face. "Read the dossier," the man's voice penetrated the closed door with ease. "Verify the information yourself. He is The Heart Carver. He needs to be stopped. To stop him you need to consent to the accept the terms of the contract." { |passage1buttons>[ (if: $dossier is true)[|passage1_1button>[[[Read Dossier->Dossier]]] ] |passage1_2button>[Go to Bed] ] (click: ?passage1_2button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage2)] } |passage2)[=Connie ignored the invasive voice, walked upstairs to her bedroom, placed the very large knife on her nightstand, crawled into her empty, king size bed, and prayed for sleep to bring an end to the second worst day of her life. [[Continue->Shadow Man]]

#Part 3 Hector Thurston: A Simple Life (set: $denial to false, $anger to false, $bargaining to false, $depression to false, $talk to false, $school to false, $comic to false, $bar to false, $bound to false, $juice to false) [[Continue->Plan]]

If this man truly was a monster, Connie couldn't risk confronting him directly. (if: $contact_found is true)[If it came to that, she had the well dressed thing's contact information. However, the trustworthiness of that thing was was still up for debate.] She knew where he lived, where he worked, where he hung out. She had to see if any of that was real. |scouted>[] |talk>[[[Talk to Hector->Talk]]] { |school>[School ] |comic>[Comic Book Store ] |bar>[Bar] (click: ?school)[(replace: ?school)[](append: ?scouted)[ (set: $school to true)(if: $school is true and $comic is true and $bar is true)[(show: ?basement)(replace: ?talk)[]] The next day, Connie staked out his place of work, a nearby elementary school. She stayed in her car and watched from afar. Hector was so early that the custodial staff had to let him inside. Which, Connie realized, was very good for her stakeout as it was quite a large school. It would have been impossible to find him in the crowd of people that swarmed it nearer to the first bell. She thought that she had missed him in the afterschool rush to leave. It had been over an hour since people had stopped trickling out and still no sighting. He taught kindergarten. It's not like he had homework to grade. Connie was relieved when a new batch of people wandered out. Older students. Maybe he was chaperoning a club? If that were the case, her mental dossier had some holes in it. A few minutes later, Hector left the building and began walking home. She knew his address. It wasn't a far walk from the school so Connie got out of her car and followed him home. She stayed very far back so as to avoid notice but Connie followed him all the way home. When he entered his house, she simply walked past it without giving it a look, went to the end of the block, looped around, and walked back to her car. She moved her car from its spot near the school to Hector's street. It wasn't directly in front of his house but she was able to keep an eye on it. From what she could tell, as soon as he got him, Hector made dinner, then watched TV on the couch until he fell asleep. ] ] (click: ?comic)[(replace: ?comic)[](append: ?scouted)[ (set: $comic to true)(if: $school is true and $comic is true and $bar is true)[(show: ?basement)(replace: ?talk)[]] Next Tuesday, Connie staked out the comic book store Hector frequented. It was extremely uneventful. Hector arrived what would have been shortly after he left work. He walked in, went to the counter, talked for a few minutes, left with a small shopping bag full of comic books, and walked home. ]] (click: ?bar)[(replace: ?bar)[](append: ?scouted)[ (set: $bar to true)(if: $school is true and $comic is true and $bar is true)[(show: ?basement)(replace: ?talk)[]] On the following Thursday, Hector went to his usual bar. He sat with his known associates on the patio and sipped a few drinks. Connie was in the parking lot oberserving. Hector wasn't a teetotaler or anything but, compared to his friends, his pace was reserved. //He does have to teach small children tomorrow//, Connie thought. //I supposed he can't go too hard on a weeknight//. At around 10pm, he said his goodbyes to his friends and walked home. It was the most boring drinking night Connie had every seen. ]] } |basement)[=(link: "Continue")[=As Connie sat in her car, staring at her quarry, she had only one conclusion to draw: Hector Thurston was officially the most boring man on the planet. At no point did he do anything that could possibly raise the slightest suspicion within Connie. This whole damned thing had been a weird waste of time. At least now she knew for certain that all of this was nonsense. She could forget about this man and move on with the rest of her life. Her next order of business was to replace her destroyed phone. (if: $dishes_broken)[Then, she would buy some replacement tableware.] And then-- (if: $caller is true)[The ](else:)[A] well dressed man was sitting in her passenger seat. His suit (if: $caller is true)[once again ]seemed to almost glow in the darkness of her car. She hadn't seen him approach. She hadn't heard the door. Connie was stunned. //How was he even here?// "I wanted you to see him like this for a reason," said the man. "They will not always be overt." "They?" asked Connie, not entire sure what to make about any of this. (if: $dossier is true)["I had hoped that you had a chance to read the contract fully," said the man.] (if: $contract_read is true)["I perused," said Connie. "It was pure fantasy." "No," said the man. "It was not."] The man sighed. "There is no longer time for explanation. You must act." "Time to--" Connie didn't get a chance to finish her thought. The world went dark. She was no longer seated in her car. She was standing. A horrid stench of rot, decay, and filth filled her nostrils. [[Continue->Basement]]

As Connies eyes adjusted to the gloom, she realized she was in the corner of a large cellar or basement. The lights were off and it was night. What little illumination there was came from street lights. Unfortunately, they were barely able to penetrate the tiny, dusty basement windows. In each of the other corners lay other men and women, (if:$bound is true)[similarly bound and gagged.](else:)[bound at their hands and feet, mouth gagged.] She wasn't near enough to any of them to tell, but them seemed to be alive; possibly sedated. In the center of the room lay an altar, caked in blood and viscera. It was large enough to accomodate a person and was adorned with various chains and restraints. (if:$bound is true and $caller is false)[A](else:)[The] well dressed man appeared before her. His suit a brilliant white. Though, the light didn't illuminate his surrounding. "Now you see what he truly is," said the man. Connie nodded. It was all she could do to respond. (if:$bound is true)[He looked at her for a moment, then shut his eyes. When they opened again, her restraints were gone and Connie was standing. "Thank you," she managed to eek out, careful not to alert anyone. ]"Can you help them(if:$bound is true)[ too]?" she asked in hushed tones. The well dressed man shook his head. "Only you can help these people now." "They're in chains," she said. "What can I do?" "Accept my terms and chains will be a triviality." "What the hell does that even mean?" The well dressed man raised his left hand. His thumb and index finger clasped a sheet of legal sized paper covered in dense writing. "Sign this." { |passage1buttons>[ |passage1denialButton>[Deny] |passage1acceptanceButton>[Sign] ] |passage1denial)[(set:$denial to true)"No. This isn't happening. I'm just dreaming." Connie just shook her head.] |passage1acceptance)[(set:$juice to true)"I don't have a pen," said Connie. The man reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a quill. "Reach out your hand," he instructed. When she did, he pricked it with the tip of the quill. "That'll do," he said, handing over the quill. Connie signed the document. In the next moment, she she was in Hector's living room. [[Continue->Juiced]]] (click: ?passage1denialButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1denial, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1acceptance)] } |passage2)[= "If you do not have the will to act," said the man, "I will find another that does." Connie looked up into his eyes. Though his demeanour was calm, his eyes were seething. "Leave," said the man. "The Heart Carver slumbers. He will not hear your exit." "But the others--" "Will die," he interrupted. { |passage2buttons>[ |passage2angerButton>[Accuse] |passage2acceptanceButton>[Sign] ] |passage2anger)[(set:$anger to true)"Don't you try to put this on me, you bastard," Connie said, stifling her rage. "If you can give me the power to help these people then you have the power to help these people. Help them. I will not bargain lives."] |passage2acceptance)[(set:$juice to true)"I'll sign. Though, I don't have a pen," said Connie. The man reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a quill. "Reach out your hand," he instructed. When she did, he pricked it with the tip of the quill. "That'll do," he said, handing over the quill. Connie signed the document. In the next moment, she she was in Hector's living room. [[Continue->Juiced]]] (click: ?passage2angerButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2anger, ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2acceptance)] } |passage3)[= "I have the power but not the means," said the man. "I need you. They need you." { |passage3buttons>[ |passage3bargainingButton>[Plead] |passage3acceptanceButton>[Sign] ] |passage3bargaining)[(set:$bargaining to true)"Please, we don't hae time for this," she said. "The more we discuss this the more noise we're making. If we wake him up we're screwed. Just please help them." Connie took in a deep breath. "Okay," she said. "I'll sign whatever you want after we get out of here. Just please help." The man's gave a slight turn, moving the document away from Connie. "A compact as this can not be done out of obligation," the man said. "It must be formed willingly. You must want it." "Please," she pleaded.] |passage3acceptance)[(set:$juice to true)"Fine. Though, I don't have a pen," said Connie. The man reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a quill. "Reach out your hand," he instructed. When she did, he pricked it with the tip of the quill. "That'll do," he said, handing over the quill. Connie signed the document. In the next moment, she she was in Hector's living room. [[Continue->Juiced]]] (click: ?passage3bargainingButton)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3bargaining, ?passage4)] (click: ?passage3acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage3buttons)[](show: ?passage3acceptance)] } |passage4)[= The man rolled up the contract and tucked it into his breast pocket. { |passage4buttons>[ |passage4depressionButton>[Sit] |passage4acceptanceButton>[Leave] ] |passage4depression)[(set:$depression to true)Connie just sat down. She wished she could weep. She couldn't. She was truly empty. The well dressed man's too bright suit dimmed until it melded into the darkness. And then he was gone. And she was alone. [[Continue->Sit]]] |passage4acceptance)[(set:$depression to true)Connie had no choice. The well dressed man in the too bright suit couldn't or wouldn't help. She couldn't break chains. She couldn't pick locks. But she could leave. [[Continue->Leave]]] (click: ?passage4depressionButton)[(replace: ?passage4buttons)[](show: ?passage4depression)] (click: ?passage4acceptanceButton)[(replace: ?passage4buttons)[](show: ?passage4acceptance)] }

Connie stared at the snoring man. Hector looked helpless laying prone on the couch. She didn't know what to do. "You know what to do," said the well dressed man, standing beside her. "This has to be a mistake. Some kind of trick," Connie said, still finding it hard to believe that Hector could be responsible. "You've seen his work firsthand," said the man. "Dispatch your foe." It felt wrong on every level. The well dressed man narrowed his eyes. "When he wakes, this will be much more difficult. He has centuries more experience than you. Countless souls at his disposal." "What does that even mean?!" pleaded Connie. "Summon your weapon and dispatch your foe," said the man. Connie was about to ask him how to do that but the question answered itself as a four foot long sword with a wavy blade, wreath in flame appeared in her hands. She didn't know how to properly wield a flamberge, but with a sleeping opponent that didn't really matter. { |passage1buttons>[ |passage1_1button>[Strike] |passage1_2button>[Reconsider] ] |passage1_1)[ Connie swung the sword like an axed chopping wood. Hector Thurston was struck in twain and The Heart Carver was no more. The instant the blow was struck, Connie felt a sharp, burning sensation on her wrist. Upon inspection, it appeared to a brand, burned into the skin. "What the hell is this?" Connie asked the well dressed man as he glowered at remains of The Heart Carver. "I do prefer it when they read the contract thoroughly," the man said. "Sadly, we were in a rush. Now come. We have much to discuss." ] |passage1_2)[ In the single moment that Connie hesitated, Hector Thurston's eyes flew open. When she looked into them, she no longer saw the simple school teacher. She saw the truth. She saw The Heart Carver. And, she stumbled. In the single moment that Connie faultered, The Heart Carver was on his feet, weapon in hand. She wasn't sure if it was a stiletto or a rondel. She was sure that it was heading for her face. Connie clumsily swung her flamberge and The Heart Carver twisted his blade. It made contact with her sword, throwing Connie off balance. He twisted it again, tying up the weapons. He closed the distance and twisted it again. The sword flew out of Connie's hands and the next thing she knew, she had a dagger at her throat. "Nice of you to drop by Master," The Heart Carver said to the well dressed man. He remained motionless and silent but did not seem pleased. The Heart Carver smiled a vicious smile. "So nice of you to bring me a gift," He said as he swiped the dagger across Connie's throat. She raised her hands to her neck to try and stop her lifeblood from escaping. As she did, The Heart Carver plunged his dagger into her chest and cut out her still beating heart. --- Over the following weeks, four more victims of the serial killer were found in the region. Connie was one of them. Victims with similar mutilation were found all over North America and are still being found to this day. ] (click: ?passage1_1button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_1, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1_2button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_2, ?passage2)] } |passage2)[= [[Continue->End]]

(if: $school is true or $comic is true or $bar is true)[She couldn't stock this poor man any longer. ]Connie had to talk to Hector Thurston. It was decided. (if: $school is true or $comic is true or $bar is true)[//Maybe not right now//, she thought. //Better to do it first thing in the morning//.] (link:"Continue")[= --- Connie approached Hector's house roughly an hour before he left for work. She figured that would be early enough to have a length discussion, if necessary, but still late enough that he'd actually be awake. She placed three firm, yet polite knocks on his door and waited for a minute. { |passage1buttons>[ |passage1_1button>[Knock Harder] |passage1_2button>[Wait] |passage1_3button>[Leave] ] |passage1_1)[Connie placed three firmer, less polite knocks on the door. Still no answer] |passage1_2)[Connie waited patiently for another minute.] |passage1_3)[Connie turned to leave.] (click: ?passage1_1button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_1, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1_2button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_2, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1_3button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_3, ?passage2)] } |passage2)[= "Can I help you, Miss?" asked an extremely confused male voice. Hector Thurston was standing behind her, dressed in sweats. Her mental dossier didn't contain his exercise routine. //What else was it missing?// "Hi, are you Hector?" asked Connie, hoping that all of this was a huge misunderstanding. "Uh, yeah," said Hector. "Do I know you?" Connie shook her head. "You don't. But I know you and I think some very bad people are after you." She wasn't sure whether or not that was a lie. "We need to talk." "Oh, okay." He didn't seem to know what to do with that information. "Can we talk inside?" he asked. "I forgot to take a waterbottle on my run. Really need to hydrate." "Of course," said Connie apologetically. "I didn't mean to stop you." (link:"Continue")[= They walked inside and Hector lead her to the kitchen. The house was bigger than she thought it would be. She didn't think teachers got paid well enough for something like this. It wasn't a mansion by any means, but it was definitely bigger than her place. Perhaps it was its sparse furnishing that made it look more cavernous than it really was. Hector seemed to keep a fairly modest, if large, home. "Please, take a seat," said Hector. He motioned to the set of stools by the kitchen counter. Connie sat on the first stool and leaned her elbow on the counter. In the mean time Hector walked to a cabinet and pulled out a glass. He began to fill up the glass with water from the spout on the front of his fridge then stopped almost immediately. "Forgive my manners," he said. "I don't usually have many guests over. Do you want some coffee? Or tea? Juice even?" { |passage2buttons>[ |passage2_1button>[Coffee] |passage2_2button>[Tea] |passage2_3button>[Juice] |passage2_4button>[No thanks] ] (click: ?passage2_1button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2_2button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2_3button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2_4button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage3)] } |passage3)[= In the moment it took Connie to consider if she, indeed, wished to accept a beverage from a stranger, the world went dark. Connie awoke to a number of horrifying revelations. She was no longer in Hector's kitchen. She was in almost total darkness. Her hands and wrists were bound. Her mouth was gagged. A horrid stench of rot, decay, and filth filled her nostrils as she squirmed on the ground. (set: $bound to true) [[Continue->Basement]]

Connie knew Hector Thurston's whole life. It was like every public and private record he had were shoved into her brain. She didn't know how she could access all that information, but she could.(if: $heartcarver_dossier_identified is true)[ It was like that entire dossier were arrayed out before her in her mind's eye.] Depsite what (if: $heartcarver_guest_identified is true)[both of those things](else:)[that thing] stated last night, Connie saw no reason for this man to die. She could see his entire life in his head. He posed no threat to anyone. |forget_text)[ Connie ignored the insanity of the previous night. She ignored it for weeks. But then killer struck again. And again. More victims. More families left without their loved ones. This had to end. She had to know if this Hector was the man responsible; if he was the man that took Victor away from her and cut out his still beating heart. ] [[Talk to Hector->Talk]] [[Investigate Hector->Stalk]] |forget_button>[Try to forget all of this and move on with your life] (click: ?forget_button)[(replace: ?forget_button)[](show: ?forget_text)]

Connie crept up the stairs as quietly as she could. When she got to the top she opened the door a crack and peered into the space. She could hear a police procedural on the TV and snoring. Connie still opened the door wider and stepped into the hall. { |passage1buttons>[ |passage1_1button>[Leave] |passage1_2button>[Inspect] ] |passage1_1)[ She moved towards the front door painfully slowly. She had come this far, she couldn't risk being caught. When she finally made it to the door, Connie grabbed the knob for deadbolt -- ''and it seared the flesh off her hand''. She used the other hand in an attempt to stifle her screams of anguish. But, when she had turned around to look for alternate egress, she found The Heart Carver standing before her. An insidious smile on his face. ] |passage1_2)[ She moved towards the living room; the obvious source of both the TV and the snoring. But, when she crossed the room's threshold, all she found was the TV. The snoring had stopped and Hector was nowhere to be seen -- until she turned around. There stood The Heart Carver. An insidious smile on his lips. ] (click: ?passage1_1button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_1, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1_2button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_2, ?passage2)] } |passage2)[= It was Hector Thurston, in a way. But not in any way that mattered. It still looked like the affable school teacher on the outside. But now, Connie could see into its soul. It's putrid, throbbing, rotting soul. She looked into its eyes and despaired. "I see you've decided not to take our mutual friend up on his offer," said The Heart Carver. "Lucky for me." "I didn't understand," she said to The Heart Carver. "Neither did I," it said, a hint of lamentation in The Heart Carver's voice. "But the time for that has passed," it said, hardening his tone. It was at that point that Connie saw the (text-style:"shudder")[thing] from waking dream again. The black figure hung behind The Heart Carver. Its normally angry eyes looked saddened. It nodded to Connie. Without words, she knew that it conveyed a sign of sympathy. //Accepting your fate//, echoed its dream-like voice inside her head. //This is the way it must be, a nobel sacrifice.// { |passage2buttons>[ |passage2_1button>[Accept Fate] |passage2_2button>[Accept Destiny] ] |passage2_1)[ Connie shut her eyes and opened her posture. As the tears rolled down her cheeks she heard The Heart Carver step closer. She could feel his breath. Then suddenly, all she could feel was pain. A sharp burning in the core of her chest. And then, she felt nothing ever again. --- When Hector Thurson stopped returning calls or showing up for work, a colleague went to check on him. She knocked on his door several times to no avail. She checked all the ground floor windows. The only sign of life she saw was his TV was left on. That is, until she looked into one of the small basement windows. Police rescued two men and a woman that had been found bound and gagged. Neither of the men were Hector Thurston. The woman was not Connie. ] |passage2_2)[ The demeanour of shadowy (text-style:"shudder")[figure] from her dream changed drastically. //No, what are you doing?!// it screamed into her head. She didn't hear it. She had other words on her mind. "I accept The Compact," she said. She wasn't sure why she knew to say that, but she continued, "I agree to all terms and conditions it entails." //What have you done?// the (text-style:"shudder")[figure] demanded as it faded away. In it's place stood the man in the lightly coloured, well tailored suit. The Heart Carver immediately sensed his presence and turned to face him. The well dressed man, ignored Hector and instead smiled a too wide smile at Connie. She knew what to do. As the Heart Carver stepped away from her, she reached out -- and from her hands extended a wavy blade, four feet in length, and wreath in flames. She grasped this flamberge at the hilt with both hands and swung it at The Heart Carver like a bat. Her form was terrible but the blade was a terror. Hector Thurston was struck in twain and The Heart Carver was no more. The instant the blow was struck, Connie felt a sharp, burning sensation on her wrist. Upon inspection, it appeared to a brand, burned into the skin. "What the hell is this?" Connie asked the well dressed man as he glowered at remains of The Heart Carver. "One of those terms and conditions," the man said. "Come. We have much to discuss." ] (click: ?passage2_1button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2_1, ?passage3)] (click: ?passage2_2button)[(replace: ?passage2buttons)[](show: ?passage2_2, ?passage3)] } |passage3)[= [[Continue->End]]

Connie sat in the darkness until the lights turned on. The basement was gruesome. But even with the lights on, in her state, she couldn't process the details. She heard a door open. And footsteps descending the stairs. Connie turn her head to face the sounds. Then she saw it. Not him. It. The Heart Carver stood before her. It was Hector Thurston, in a way. But not in any way that mattered. It still looked like the affable school teacher on the outside. But Connie could see into its soul. It's putrid, throbbing, rotting soul. It smiled at her as it approached. She looked up at it and despaired. "I see our mutual friend set you free," said The Heart Carver. "Lucky for me you seem to have rejected his offer." "I didn't understand," she said to The Heart Carver. "Neither did I," it said, a hint of lamentation in The Heart Carver's voice. "But the time for that has passed," it said, hardening his tone. Connie used the nearby corner walls to pull herself to her feet. "I am ready," she said opening her posture. "Yes," said The Heart Carver. "Yes, you are." It was at that point that Connie saw the (text-style:"shudder")[thing] from waking dream again. The black figure hung behind The Heart Carver. Its normally angry eyes looked saddened. It nodded to Connie. Without words, she knew that it conveyed a sign of respect and sympathy. //Accepting your fate is a nobel sacrifice//, echoed its dream-like voice inside her head. //This is the way it must be.// { |passage1buttons>[ |passage1_1button>[Accept Fate] |passage1_2button>[Accept Destiny] ] |passage1_1)[ Connie shut her eyes. As the tears rolled down her cheeks she heard The Heart Carver step closer. She could feel his breath. Then suddenly, all she could feel was pain. A sharp burning in the core of her chest. And then, she felt nothing ever again. --- When Hector Thurson stopped returning calls or showing up for work, a colleague went to check on him. She knocked on his door several times to no avail. She checked all the ground floor windows. The only sign of life she saw was his TV was left on. That is, until she looked into one of the small basement windows. Police rescued two men and a woman that had been found bound and gagged. Neither of the men were Hector Thurston. The woman was not Connie. ] |passage1_2)[ The demeanour of shadowy (text-style:"shudder")[figure] from her dream changed drastically. //No, what are you doing?!// it screamed into her head. She didn't hear it. She had other words on her mind. "I accept The Compact," she said. She wasn't sure why she knew to say that, but she continued, "I agree to all terms and conditions it entails." //What have you done?// the (text-style:"shudder")[figure] demanded as it faded away. In it's place stood the man in the lightly coloured, well tailored suit. The Heart Carver immediately sensed his presence and turned to face him. The well dressed man, ignored Hector and instead smiled a too wide smile at Connie. She knew what to do. As the Heart Carver stepped away from her, she reached out -- and from her hands extended a wavy blade, four feet in length, and wreath in flames. She grasped this flamberge at the hilt with both hands and swung it at The Heart Carver like a bat. Her form was terrible but the blade was a terror. Hector Thurston was struck in twain and The Heart Carver was no more. The instant the blow was struck, Connie felt a sharp, burning sensation on her wrist. Upon inspection, it appeared to a brand, burned into the skin. "What the hell is this?" Connie asked the well dressed man as he glowered at remains of The Heart Carver. "One of the terms and conditions," the man said. "Come. We have much to discuss." ] (click: ?passage1_1button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_1, ?passage2)] (click: ?passage1_2button)[(replace: ?passage1buttons)[](show: ?passage1_2, ?passage2)] } |passage2)[= [[Continue->End]]

#Bad Faith By Craig Cordeiro [[Restart->Part 1]]